


Honor

by syriala



Series: Inktober for Writers 2017 [10]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Hospitals, Hurt Stiles, M/M, Peter Cares, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-15 21:18:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13621869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syriala/pseuds/syriala
Summary: “Wonderful. What are you doing here? Are you my honor guard? Guardian of honor? Honoring everything guarding related?” he rambled, concussion clearly fresher than he thought.Peter snorted. “Stiles, we both know that if they needed someone with honor to guard you, I wouldn’t be here.”





	Honor

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Inktober for Writers, day 10, and the word was 'honor'.

Stiles came to slowly. Before he opened his eyes, he tried to take stock of the situation; he had been in hospitals enough to have developed some kind of routine.

He was hurting all over, though the worst pain was concentrated in his left leg. Broken, probably.

The headache indicated a concussion, which also meant he hadn’t been out that long if he still felt it. After he was aware of most of his injuries he tried to remember what had happened, and right. A minotaurus had run them down. Well, mostly he ran down Stiles as it seemed.

“I know you’re awake,” Peter suddenly said and Stiles’ eyes flew open.

“Unfair,” he croaked and Peter was there with a glass of water immediately.

“Stupid werewolves,” Stiles muttered after he drank his fill and Peter smirked at him.

“How are you feeling?” he asked and Stiles looked down at his leg, which was indeed in a cast.

“Wonderful. What are you doing here? Are you my honor guard? Guardian of honor? Honoring everything guarding related?” he rambled, concussion clearly fresher than he thought.

Peter snorted. “Stiles, we both know that if they needed someone with honor to guard you, I wouldn’t be here.”

“At least you are self-aware,” Stiles said. “Still no reason for you to be here. Are you guarding my honor?”

This time Peter outright snorted.

“Really,” he said in a clear refusal to put inflection on his question. At least now Stiles knew where Derek got it from.

“Hey, I will have you know I am a person full of honor.”

“You are also full of shit,” Peter shot back. “And painkillers. You should sleep.”

“So, is the minotaur after me now?” Stiles asked instead of acknowledging Peter’s suggestion.

“Not that I know of,” Peter said and he seemed entirely unconcerned about Stiles’ safety, which was proof enough that Stiles really wasn’t in any danger.

“How did you end up being benched then?” Stiles asked him, because guarding the breakable human basically meant Peter wouldn’t see a fight in quite some time.

Peter nonchalantly inspected his claws before he spoke. “I might have forgotten myself.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes at him. “You mean you killed the minotaur.”

“Someone had to,” Peter gave back and Stiles suddenly was warm all over.

“Awww, you care. How sweet.”

“Maybe we should adjust your medication. Wouldn’t want you to be awake for much longer. Or god forbid remember this.”

“Too late, creeper wolf. I know you care now, that knowledge is deeply embedded, no going back.”

Peter only rolled his eyes, but he didn’t seem displeased. He never did when he was interacting with Stiles.

“We’ll see if you remember it tomorrow.”

“No walking out while I am asleep. I expect you to be there when I wake up again,” Stiles told him as he snuggled deeper under the blanket. He jostled his leg in the process but Peter was there to take his pain in an instant.

“Careful now, we wouldn’t want others to know that you care about me,” Stiles mumbled. Werewolf healing always made him sleepy.

“It would be difficult to let the others know about this, since I don’t care about you,” Peter said and Stiles tried his best to glare at him in response. “Scout’s honor,” Peter added and now Stiles chuckled.

“You have never been a boy scout,” he accused Peter who smiled at him.

“Exactly,” he whispered and that was the last thing Stiles knew for quite some time.


End file.
